


I'd Pickens You

by FlowerBrewer



Category: CallMeKevin - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Rollerskates, heelys, i like simpsons, pickens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:35:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23829190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlowerBrewer/pseuds/FlowerBrewer
Summary: Jim Pickens is an approximately 60 year old first year at Hogwarts. He has an extreme crush on Hagrid. That's really it. Also Homer Simpson is here.
Relationships: Jim Pickens/Hagrid
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

“No, Pickens, that is not how you combine Onion Juice and Jewelweed. If you are not more cautious with how you work in my class, I will seek further means of punishment. Perhaps detention is not good enough for you.” Professor Snape glared at Jim Pickens. Jim’s sloppy work covered his entire workspace. His uneven cuts of the onion splayed like shark teeth up from the wooden slab. “Simpson, take over. Pickens uses his hands like a barbarian.” The professor glided away. Snape had been going through a bit of a phase recently where he would slip around the castle on Heelys hidden under his cloak for more of a dramatic, intimidating effect. 

Homer Simpson, Jim’s potion partner, scoffed indignantly, “Are you trying to kill everyone? The way you’re working is going to make an explosive potion.” 

Jim nodded, "Yeah."

"Listen I don’t want to fail this class again. I’ve already failed it once, and Dumbledore said he’d expel me if I failed again. You can kill everyone later, but if we fail to make these potions, I’ll end up dead at the end of the semester for sure. Marge is getting upset that I’ve given up my home life for magic.” Homer pleaded as he sliced through the onion neatly and juiced it by squeezing it through a cheesecloth.  


“I’m going to Lupin's class. Finish this potion, will you?” Jim pushed himself back from the workbench and strided up to the front of the class. “Snape, I hate you. It took me forever to find this class, and your Heely’s aren’t even cool.”  


“Yes they are!” Hollered Homer from the back of the class. His voice peaked with agitation, cracking at the highest pitch.  


“Detention, Pickens.” Snape snarled, tucking his shoes beneath the skirts of his long cloak. “See me at the end of your classes today. I will inform Dumbledore of your misbehavior, and you will be punished accordingly.” He slinked behind his desk, scanning the class for a victim. “And Simpson as well. You have failed to keep Pickens in line, so you have failed today’s lesson. I am quite aware of your ultimatum with the headmaster. If you desire to continue on this path, I will have to fail you entirely. Finally, due to both of your atrocious behavior, ten points from Slytherin.”  


“Professor Snape! I’m not even in Slytherin! I left my kids to come here.” cried Homer, wiping at his eyes with onion juice covered hands. His eyes welled with tears from the fragrant chopped onion spread beneath his nose. He wiped his eyes, screaming as he spread the juice from the cloth onto his face. “Snape” he blubbered, “Please don’t do this.”  


Jim coldly turned from the scene, his face hardened in a stoic expression. He slipped through the door as Homer continued to act as a distraction. He felt no empathy for his partner. He felt no remorse toward his house for losing the points. Jim only wanted one thing in life. Jim wanted chaos. He wanted to be the reason Lucifer’s fall seemed pitiful. He wanted to be the reason for the earthquakes, the tsunamis, and the end of the world. He wanted to be the reason for all of the bad things happening to good people. He wanted to be the puppeteer and make everyone dance at his feet.  


But Jim needed only one thing in life as well. Jim’s heart of stone beat only for one tall, hairy, chunky man. Jim lusted deeply after PS1 Hagrid. He yearned for the tall man. He couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t drink. He spent his days in pure agony, grinding his mind over the thought of living without Hagrid, breathing without him. The wrenching pain that broiled within him grew as he imagined his studies without Hagrid to keep him distracted. Jim needed Hagrid.  


Jim could never tell Hagrid about his desire. His burning, aching, lust towards the giant was forbidden as the forest. All he could do is imagine himself tightly wrapped in the big, burly man’s arms and never let go. He would give up everything for the man. He would cause chaos for the man. He considered taking a visit to Hagrid’s cabin and stewing deep conversation over steaming cups of tea. Instead, Jim chose to visit Lupin as to not be obvious about his love.  


He dragged his feet down the hallway and into another hallway. And then another hallway, and then another. The halls of Hogwarts all looked the same. Despite having attended school for a semester, Jim heavily relied on his classmates to take him around the school. He traveled up and down winding staircases, across halls and through doors, searching for the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. After a while of groggy searching, Jim stumbled into the Slytherin dorms and slumped into one of the couches in the lounge, giving up on his search.  


“Jim,” someone called from the shadows of the room. “I’ve heard about your roommates.” Malfoy stepped forth, the light revealing his identity. Jim grunted in reply. Malfoy continued “You’ve tormented them.” Jim grunted again, this time approvingly. In the beginning of the year, Jim lived in a room with three other first year boys. He slept in the far right wall, and kept all of his belongings chained in his trunk. Jim, however, believed in chaos as a method to get what he desired. After finding multiple scorpions under his pillow and scrolls with threats dumped on his bed multiple times, one of the boys begged his parents to transfer him to France. Jim never bragged about his accomplishments, but he did immediately reap the benefits of his work. After the boy moved out, Jim pushed the empty bed over to his own and created an ocean of bedding on which to sleep. The other roommates cowered in fear. They huddled together on the far bed, opening another mattress for Jim to take as free real estate.  


Malfoy continued, “That is true Slytherin behavior, Jim. Would you like to come to my father’s house? He would like to meet you.”  


“How did you know I was coming?” Jim asked.  


“I didn’t.” Malfoy admitted.  


“Have you been waiting there?”  


“Yes.”  


“Do you have a lot of money?”  


“Yeah.”  


“Sure, I’ll come.” Jim stood from the couch and headed towards the door to exit the dorm. “Let’s go.”  


“Now? But there’s class soon.”  


“Which one?”  


“Care of Magical Creatures.”  


“With Hagrid?”  


“I hate that ugly man. Gryffindors.” said Malfoy disgustedly.  


“He’s not ugly!” Jim snapped, unable to catch himself from yelling.  


“He is. Any Gryffindor is ugly.” Malfoy glanced at his nails. “Rats. It’s broken again.” He huffed in annoyance. “Come to the dorms after dinner. We’ll head over to my house for the night and be back by the morning.” Malfoy slid back into the shadows falling in the corner of the room like a shower.  


“Not him.” Jim whispered softly. It had never occurred to him that Hagrid could be a Gryffindor. He always assumed someone as hot as Hagrid would be a Slytherin, or at the very least a Hufflepuff. It is a well known fact that Hagrid is a stoner, afterall, and stoners account for most of the Hufflepuffs. Jim could tolerate the Hufflepuffs. He could even persuade himself to tolerate Ravenclaws, but never Gryffindors. How sinful it is to be a Gryffindor, and how shameful was he who loved before the label. Jim collapsed onto the couch, swooning like an 18th century maiden in distress. He moaned in disbelief before springing to his feet and darting out of the lounge door. He returned shortly after. “Malfoy, how do I get to class?”  


“You go outside.” He responded promptly.  


“Yes, I know but how do you get outside?” Jim sighed.  


“Go up the stairs straight ahead and follow the hallway until you see the turn off on the right framed with torches. Now if you see the bridge you’ve gone too far. Take a right down the torch hallway and go through the corridor. Then make an abrupt left and you’re in the grand entrance. Then you want to follow the wall on your right until you see the Great hall. Once you see the hall, don’t go inside. Take a left down the hall perpendicular to it. Go up the spiral staircase until the top, cross the bridge there, and go down the sloping hallway. Then you’ll want to turn around and go halfway up again. It is imperative that you go all of the way down or the paintings will cause you to slip. Once you’re halfway up again, turn off the sloping hallway and into the stairwell. Go all of the way down the stairs and out of the doors.” Malfoy spoke ominously, refusing to leave the bath of the shadows.  


Jim snapped back to reality. “Huh? Oh. And then what?”  


“Then you’re outside. Go straight down the hill until you see a stone path. Follow the path, but once you hit the forest, veer off the path and to the left towards the stables. At this point you should begin to see other students. You’re almost there. You’ll climb the hill and it should be right over the crest. You should see it from there.”  


“Oh. Right. And if I don’t go to class then?” Jim questioned blankly.  


“You’ll lose points for Slytherin, and you’ll lose my respect.” Malfoy jumped from the shadows, wand in hand before slinking back into the abyss.  


“Okay, noted. Thanks.” He jogged back out of the door and immediately blanked on the directions. “Dear God.” He muttered, staring down the three paths ahead of him like he was looking at a book without pictures. “Left. Always go left.” He reassured himself.  


Down the left hallway there was a tall, looming staircase stretching into the darkness. The walls were void of windows and torches, and the stairs seemed to stretch eternally. Jim pushed on, determined to see the love of his life. He cast a Lumos spell, sprouting a ball of light at the tip of his slender wand which allowed him enough freedom to see a few steps ahead. Jim ventured bravely, bodly, into the unknown.  


As he climbed the staircase his knees grew weaker. He was unsure of the time that had passed, but the thought of it being soon over was enough to keep him climbing. Soon a haze of light grew on the walls like mold, covering the brick of the walls in a thick layer. He began to take the steps two at a time when he saw this, running to meet the eventual peak.  


Once he reached the top of the stairs he statshed his wand back in his robes and began to heave. As an old man pretending to be a student so he could attend Hogwarts, Jim could not keep pace with many of the other first years. Stairs knocked the wind out of him everytime he climbed them, no matter how steep the staircase was. At the landing there was a fork in the hallway. One side led straightforward, and the other side led to the left. Straightforward seemed darker, yet he could see what looked to be a classroom door from where he stood. The left hallway seemed to be brighter, perhaps with light from outside. “Left, always go left.” Jim repeated, wheezing.  


Jim crept down the path with his hands over his head, trying to catch his breath. “Where do you think you are going, young man?” A woman’s voice called from behind.  


Jim turned to see Professor McGonagall standing impatiently with her arms crossed over herself. “Outside, professor.” He responded, turning to leave again.  


“Why’s that?” Professor McGonagall inquired, stubbornly staying in place where she stood.  


“I have Hagrid’s class.” Jim claimed. He was growing agitated at the plethora of sudden questions.  


“Oh, Hagrid’s class isn’t that way. It’s over there.” She gestured in the complete opposite direction than Jim was heading. Jim turned once more to look the way she was pointing. His face fell into despair and he realized all of his progress in his journey actually set him back further. “Would you like me to show you? First years get lost all of the time.”  


“Yes, please.” Jim groaned as he treaded toward Professor McGonagall. “I thought I was going the right way.”  


“Don’t worry. I’ve gotten lost many times. You would think they would add some signs to this place. It took me many years to figure out how to get to my room without incident.” She laughed. She skated down the hallway slowly, pacing herself on her rollerblades for Jim to be able to catch up.  


They returned to the Slytherin Dormitories and stood in front of the entrance. “From here you’re going to go up the stairs straight ahead and follow the hallway until you see the turn off on the right framed with torches. Now if you see the bridge you’ve gone too far. Take a right down the torch hallway and go through the corridor. Then make an abrupt left and you’re in the grand entrance. Then you want to follow the wall on your right until you see the Great hall.”  


“I’ve heard it before.” Jim interrupted. “With those exact words, I think. Can you just apparate me there?”  


“Well, I guess, but that wouldn’t be very fun. I’ll race you there.” She said, doing circles around Jim with her rollerskates.  


“No, professor I just want to get to class.” Jim said, defeated.  


“Fine, I’ll just apparate you there.” She rolled her eyes like she rolled her skates and hit Jim with her wand, sending him to Hagrid’s class.  



	2. Chapter 2

Jim stumbled across the grass ignoring the throbbing pain in his head. He headed towards the stables where the rest of the class was gathered. “Who is that?” He heard a gruff voice ask.  


“Jim Pickens,” someone said in a muffled reply.  


“Jim Pickens, hurry up now, you’re already late, don't be any later.” Hagrid called, waving him on.  


Jim stumbled across the yard keeping his eyes locked on the ground, knowing that if he locked eyes with Hagrid he wouldn’t be able to control himself. “Sorry, sir, I got lost.”  


“Got lost, did ye? Alright, well, don’t do it again or I’ll take all of yer house points.” He smiled mischievously. “Nah, I wouldn’t do that. Glad ye could make it. Hop in the crowd.”  


Jim blushed an angry red, “Yes sir.” He took his place in the back of the crowd.  


“Right class, today we’re learning about puffskeins. How many of you have had a puffskein as a pet? They’re very common, y’know. These lads are very common.” He scoops a small, Club Penguin puffle-like animal out from an open box on the table in front of the students. “Right, here we are. You may know this guy by his common name, the poffle. They’re everywhere. They eat the bugs ye find in yer rooms, like brooms they are. Who wants to touch him? He’s very nice, just woken up from his nap.” A group of students sheepishly move towards the giant with the small ball of fur in his hand. “He won’t bite ya. He’s very nice. Go ahead now, pet ‘im.” Hagrid lowers the puffskein towards the first years and waits for all of them to pet him. “Has everyone gone? Jim, have you pet him?”  


“No Professor, I haven’t.” Jim responded.  


“Come pet ‘im, then.” Hagrid said. Jim reached out to pet the creature, offering as slow and gentle of a hand as he could muster. 

“Feck!” He pulled his hand away quickly, shaking it out. “That fecker bit me! I’ll kill it! I will!” He charged towards the creature.  


Hagrid swiped his hand away and put the creature back in the box. “Right, we can end class there anyway. Everyone make your way inside, get to where you need to be next. Jim, stay with me, I’ll take care of that bite.”  


Jim choked on the air. Whether it was because Hagrid was going to spend time with him alone or if the bite was killing him he did not know. What he did know, however, was that this was his time to make a move on the giant.  


“Come inside, I have some cream in here I can put on that bite. It’ll itch for about an hour, but it’ll disappear after that. Just don’t scratch it.” Hagrid held the door open to his hut and waited for Jim to come inside. “Take a seat at that table there.” He nodded towards the large chair on the wall.  


“Thank you.” Jim took a seat. The hut was intoxicating. It smelled like him. Everything he touched, everything he lived with, even where he slept, this was Hagrid’s palace. Nothing felt real.  
“These puffskeins never bite young students. Ye sure yer a first year?” Hagrid joked.  


“I’m a first year, but I’m not eleven.” Jim responded quickly.  


“Oh, yer not? How old are ya? Are you a transfer?” Hagrid dug through a box he had slammed on the counter.  


“I’m legal.” Jim swore he could see a hint of a blush on Hagrid's face.  


“How are you a first year then?” He held up a tube of cream to the light. “Ah, here it is.”  


“I just got my letter this year. I sold it for a dollar.” Jim answered, holding his hand out.  


Hagrid began to rub the cream on his hand. “Must’ve been delayed for some reason.”  


“I’m glad you’re, I mean, I’m finally here.” Jim cursed himself under his breath for misspeaking.  


“What’s your next class?” Hagrid asked.  


“I don’t have another class today. It’s almost time for dinner.”  


“Do you know how to get there?”  


“No,” He said embarrassed. The dimly lit hut began to wrap itself in the shadows of the evening.  


“I’ll take you there. I have to get going there soon, anyway.” Hagrid held the door open again. “Next time don’t pet the creature, even if I ask you to,” he laughed. “Right, now, come on.”  


Jim pushed himself up from the chair and ducked out of the door. “Thank you again.” He turned away from Hagrid, trying to keep his blushing a secret.  


The giant man hobbled ahead of Jim as they headed towards the Great hall together. “Hagrid,” Jim called, trying to find his words. “Hagrid, I want to get to know you better.”  


Hagrid stayed silent for a moment. He waited to reach the top of the hill to speak. “What do you mean, Jim?”  


“No, forget it.” Jim interjected. “It was stupid.”  


“Nothings stupid when it comes from you, Jim. I’d like to get to know ye, too.” Hagrid said delicately, turning towards Jim. “Meet me in my hut after dinner today. I’ll make us some joints and we can talk.”  


Jim smiled, looking at the man in front of him. “Tonight?”  


“Does it work for you?” Hagrid asked, concerned. He reached out and placed a large hand on Jim’s slender shoulder.  


“Yes, I’ll,” Jim paused, conflicted, “I’ll make time.” He smiled. Jim had what he needed in life in his grasp, and he would do anything to get it, even cutting out the resident mean girl of the house, Draco Malfoy. Jim was in love with a Gryffindor, and he had betrayed his Slytherin house to get him.  


Hagrid held the door open for Jim as they stepped into the main building. “Here we are, just to the right here is where we eat. Do you need to get anything from your room before you eat?”  


Jim looked into his love’s jolly eyes. He felt as if nothing existed but he and Hagrid. That he had stopped time. That he had to protect Hagrid at all times. That he and Hagrid were against the world and this giant, grand unnavigable castle.  


“Jim?” He asked again.  


Jim shook his head. “Sorry, I got distracted. I have to go. I’ll see you after dinner.” Jim hurried towards his place in the Great Hall. He opted for a seat at the end of the table closest to the doors, as he hated everyone. The seat closest to the door allowed him easy access to leave the Great Hall so he could wander after eating and avoid anyone talking to him. Today, however, he was not so lucky. As students trickled in, Jim began to squirm in his seat. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on their end and pooled with sweat. He felt as if he was being watched, and when he looked up from the table in front of him, Homer stood ominously across from him.  


“What have you done?” Homer snarled, fire burning in his reddened eyes. “You failed me, and you skipped out on detention. You left me alone with Snape. I had to clean everything without you.” Homer leaned in, his putrid breath engulfing Jim in a cloud of stink. “You’re going to pay for this, Pickens.”  


“Get out of here, Gryffindor scum.” Malfoy spat. He pushed Homer away from the table and took a seat across from Jim. “Don’t be afraid to push them away, Jim, they’re lesser than us.”  


“Right, yeah, yeah! They are!” Jim grinned. “No one is as good as us.” He said happily.  


Homer chiseled his rough expression into disbelief. He mumbled unintelligible something before taking a seat back at the Gryffindor table.  


Malfoy adjusted his robes around the bench and set his wand on the table. “Do you just want to leave from here to go to my house instead of meeting back at the dorms?”  


Jim eagerly reached to help himself to the food that had appeared. “No, I have to drop something off at the dorms first. I’ll meet you there.” He lied.  


Draco nodded while watching Jim spoon heaps of sushi on his plate. “Are you going to be able to eat all of that?”  


“Does it matter? It’s free.” Jim began to chug the pumpkin juice in his cup.  


“I see, take what belongs to you. Good.” Malfoy nodded in approval. “Had you been a part of any other house I don’t know if it’d trust the sorting hat.”  


Jim didn’t respond. He shoveled the sushi in his mouth and ignored the question. His mind was elsewhere. The conflict between him and Homer was getting to him. Were all Gryffindors that bad? The look on Homer’s face haunted him. It floated around his head like the DVD symbol, never quite going away. Had he been wrong to refuse to go to detention? Had he been wrong about Gryffindors in general? All he could think about was Homer’s hurt expression and Hagrid’s love. Are all Gryffindors condemned to be horrible? Could Malfoy, his only sort of friend, be wrong? Jim didn’t know. He couldn’t know. He resorted to using the sushi as an excuse.  


“My father always talks about how great Slytherins are. How we’re the only house that ever amounts to anything.” Malfoy smirked condescendingly. “I believe that. I’m going to be the most powerful man there is, and you’ll be my second in command, Jim. We’ll take over the Wizarding world, you and I.”  


“I want to be first in command.” Jim wiped his mouth of the stray grains of rice. “I’m never second in command to anyone.” Jim looked up to see the frowning face of Malfoy peering over a mountain of food at him.  


“I am never second in command either. This won’t work unless you submit to me.” Malfoy chidded.  


“Maybe you should submit to me.” Jim shot back, becoming irritated. “Think about it. I’m going to the dorms.” Jim stood up from the table. “How do I get to the dorms?”  


Malfoy sighed. “Take a right out of here, go down the stairs, You’ll see a bathroom on the left, that’s how you know you’re going the right way. Continue past the bathroom and down the hall until you can't go any farther. Then you’re going to take a right down to the staircase and.”  


“You know what? I’ll find my own way there.” Jim swished his robes dramatically before exiting. He began to head in the direction he caught Malfoy saying, before he turned to walk towards Hagrid’s hut.  


After many minutes of panicked searching, he found his way outside and stumbled through the hills like he was drunk, tripping over the occasional hole in the ground. He knocked on the door to the hut, bruised and battered from the beating of the hills.  


“Who-” Hagrid ripped the door open like Shrek in Shrek, “Oh, Jim.” Hagrid relaxed into a smile and backed away from the door to let him come inside. “You left dinner early, I see.”  


“I couldn’t stand to be without you.” Jim pushed his way inside and sat at the table with his head in his hands. “Hagrid, I want to change houses.”  


“Ye want to what?” Hagrid asked in disbelief, “Ye can’t, Jim. What’s come over ya?” Hagrid placed a hand on his back soothingly. “I’ll put some tea on for ya, don’t worry yourself none.”  


Jim took his head out of his hands to look at Hagrid. “I can’t be with you as a Slytherin.” He put his face back into his palms.  


“What?” Hagrid yelled. “Where’d you hear that?”  


“I said it myself. I can’t. There’s too much pride in the Slytherin house to be with a Gryffindor.” Jim cried.  


Hagrid turned the kettle on and sat across from Jim. “I’d change houses for you in a second. I’d pick you over anything. I’d move the world for you, I’d hold it on my back for the rest of eternity if it meant you would be happy, Jim.”  


“I just wish we could be together.” Jim whispered  


“We can. We are.” Hagrid reached towards Jim’s hand and held it tightly. “I love you, Jim.”  


“Hagrid I love you too.” Jim looked up at the lovely giant with tears in his eyes, “but that’s the bitten hand.”  


Hagrid let go of the hand he was holding and grabbed Jim’s other hand when the kettle started screaming. “We just can’t have a moment, can we?”  


Jim smiled in response. “The tea can wait.” He leaned in for a kiss, quickly received by Hagrid.  


Jim had what he needed. Jim needed Hagrid.


	3. Chapter 3

It was morning before Jim left Hagrid’s hut. The morning dew dripped down the leaves of grass and pooled on the edges on Jim’s shoes as he trekked through the yard towards the Great Hall. Luckily no one ever wears anything different in Hogwarts, so he didn’t have to hide the fact he was wearing the same clothes as yesterday. No one would notice, not that Jim cared.  


Now that Jim felt complete, he no longer needed friends or the connections with anyone. He no longer depended on people for entertainment. Jim no longer desired for people to direct him down the hallways.  


His footsteps became heavier as he approached the door to let himself inside of the castle. The vibrations shook the memories of Malfoy free from the sand in his mind like an etch-a-sketch. The stale air of morning food wafted through the halls surrounding the breakfast already splayed out on the table and picked over by other students.  


Jim took his place at the end of the Slytherin table. No one came to greet him or pass the meal with him. Homer was balancing forks to make a tower across the way to make the other Gryffindors laugh. Malfoy was acting out some battle enthusiastically gesturing with his hands. It was probably a made up story about his father. Jim didn’t care to find out. All he could register was anger. An unfathomable, unfounded, unmanageable anger that sunk in his heart like a sim to the bottom of a pool and spilled out into his veins like poison. His thoughts were clouded with hatred, towards whom he did not know. Perhaps it was Homer for trying to threaten him last night. Perhaps he was angry that a Gryffindor could be so bold towards him, that Homer thinks he could even attempt to fight him without it ending in complete desimation, nevermind win. Maybe he was angry at Snape for causing him to snap, or McGonagall for stopping him from exploring on his own. Or maybe he was angry at Draco Malfoy.  


Before becoming an acquaintance with Malfoy, being a part of Slytherin meant nothing more to Jim than the dirt he walked on. Slytherin was a label that didn’t mean anything for his identity. Jim was always about himself first, whether he was Slytherin or Ravenclaw or any other house. He didn’t need labels to tell him how to act or think. Before Slytherin, Jim hated everyone equally. After meeting Draco, Jim stopped believing everyone was terrible. It was Draco that ruined him. It was Draco that needed to pay.  


He let the Gryffindors stare at him as he scarfed down all of the food he could. He ignored the proding eyes of the other Slytherins. He couldn’t stand to be around anyone presently, and wished for a spell to leave quickly. His first year of spells gave him nothing of value. Only the ability to make a ball of light, which could easily be replaced if the wizarding world would just accept flashlights. He wished to apparate, but Hermione Granger was loudly scolding her friends across the way about the idea of plotting to abuse the power. Not that Jim cared what she thought of him or his actions, but according to her it was impossible to do so inside of Hogwarts. McGonagall had broken the rules for him before. She must have recognized his power, Jim thought. McGonagall must be his ally.  


By the time Jim finished stewing over his plate of beans, everyone began to file out of the Great Hall and down to their first classes of the day. Jim shuffled behind the pack, attempting to avoid Draco and other Slytherins, but stayed close enough to the pack to be able to see where they were going. His first class was Charms. Flitwick was tolerable at the very most. Jim didn’t hate his class, and he had no reason to despise the man. That didn’t stop him from hating him, though. His war path had just begun. Instead of attending class, however, Jim decided the edgiest thing he could muster would be to ignore his responsibilities and draw out a plan to force the wizarding world to submit.  


His path through the castle was exposed by his footsteps, sounding like falling stones upon the tiles that stretched the floor. He turned off the main route of the other students, the murmurs from the crowd shrinking into whispers. He opted to travel down the center of the hallway, disrupting any pairs of students that came across him by forcing them to split their conversations around him. As he worked his way farther from his classmates and in the direction he believed to be the way to the dorms, the few sounds remaining grew in intensity, gripping Jim’s head as if it were wedged between two megaphones in a metal chamber. He stopped to clutch his ears, massaging them with the palms of his hands to soothe the excruciating, ringing pain. “Feckin hell.” Jim groaned, doubling over. The floor shook with the vibrations of the screeching pain as he landed heavily on his knee caps. No where was safe. The sound grew and grew, and it took the pain with it. He shut his eyes, bracing against what he believed to be the end of his life, and tucked his elbows towards himself, curling into the fetal position on the hard floor.  


Everything stopped. Jim stayed still, fearing for the worst. “Am I dead?” He wondered allowed, keeping his eyes sealed against the truth, but removing his hands from his ears to test his surroundings. Suddenly a boisterous “WEEEOOW!” ripped through the delicate silence, followed by maniacal laughing.  


Jim flung himself to the ground again, whimpering against the cold tiles as bruises began to form on his hands from the fall. “I’ll kill you for this. Who are you?” He roared in response to the humiliation.  


“You’ll kill me?” the entity laughed again, this time like a hyena, “You’re a funny one. Good luck with that.” Peeves the ghost emerged from the suit of armor standing stiffly on the side of the hallway. “Take a swing.” He held his arms open, welcoming any chances the first year in front of him took.  


“You’ll pay for this.” Jim spat blood in front of where he laid.  


“Aren’t you supposed to be in class?” Peeves chidded, floating around Jim as if in the beginning of a cheesy fight movie from the 90’s.  


Jim winced as he pushed himself from the ground, sucking in air through his gritted teeth as if it were the cure for every ounce of pain permeating through his body. “Who are you?” he asked, halfway to his feet.  


The ghost smiled mockingly, switching to a pose someone would pull while lounging on a beach chair. “They call me Peeves here.” He boasted.  


“Here? What do they call you elsewhere?” Jim asked, refusing to spend the energy it would cost to push himself to his feet.  


“Peeves.”  


“So why did you say here?” Jim inquired.  


“I can’t really leave here.” Peeves admitted, sheepishly, stopping his floating.  


“So why did you say it?”  


“Because they call me Peeves here.”  


“But not only here?”  


“Right, not only here.”  


“But you’ve never left here, so how would you know?”  


“Well I don’t but I’m assuming people would call me the same thing elsewhere. Like you, what’s your name?”  


“Jim.” said Jim while finally climbing to his feet.  


“Okay, Jim. I’d call you Jim here, but I’d also call you Jim in a Tesco. I wouldn’t change your name based on the location.” Peeves reasoned, now sitting cross legged in the air.  


“Would you call me Jim in a house?”  


“What house are you in? Slytherin? I can tell.” He nodded.  


“Would you call me Jim with a mouse?”  


“Well do you have a mouse?”  


“Would you call me Jim in a box?”  


“Why would you be in a box?”  


“Would you call me Jim with a fox?”  


“A fox? Is that even a pet you can have here? Is that,” Peeves paused, turning to face Jim from his relaxed pose, “Is that Dr. Seuss?”  


“No, I wrote it.” Jim defended sharply, more hurt by his accusation of plagiarism than the piercing shriek from before.  


Peeves moved closer to Jim, “You wrote that?” He asked, awestruck.  


“Sure did.” Jim bragged. “Would you like a copy? I have some signed ones in my trunk at my dorm.”  


“I would love one.” Peeves admitted with tears in his eyes, “I have never before heard such poetry. I don’t know how I can live without it now.”  


“Follow me.” Jim said, staying in place.  


Peeves waited for Jim to move, “You have to walk for me to follow you.”  


“I don’t actually know how to get to the dorms from here. I just wanted to sound like I was in charge.” Jim said. “Show me to the Slytherin dorms.”  


“You got it, boss.” Peeves began floating towards the stairwell ahead of Jim.  


“I was going in the right direction?” Jim asked.  


“Yeah, didn't you know?”  


“I just said I don’t know how to get to the dorms from here.”  


“Well, for a guy so completely lost, you exude a lot of confidence.”  


“Thank you. It’s one of my many talents.”  


Peeves floated farther ahead, stopping at the top of the stairs. “It’s just down here.” He said, waiting for Jim to catch up.  


“That’s it?” Jim asked in disbelief.  


“That’s why I asked if you really didn’t know how to get there.” Peeves answered, drifting down the stairs. “Come on.” .  


“Can you enter the dorms?”  


“Uh, no.” Peeves said, pausing to think beforehand.  


“Should I bring a copy outside then?”  


“I won’t be able to get it otherwise.” Peeves shot back.  


Jim shrugged. “Just asking.” He ducked through the doors, pushing them shut until they clicked. “Right where is-” Jim whispered to himself.  


A shadow darted across the way in front of Jim, brushing scattered, loose paper around the room with the wind.  


Jim shrugged it off, not caring to give it any attention, and continued towards his dorm. He pulled the door open, only for it to be pushed closed on his arm. “Feckin hell, not again. Who’s there?” He yelled, looking for the culprit.  


“Jim,” the shadows hissed.  


“Jim? No I'm Jim. You're Draco. Why are you always in the shadows?” Jim hollered, clutching his crushed arm.  


“You’ve betrayed me.”


	4. Chapter 4

“What?” Jim asked, shutting the door completely and turning to look at Draco.

The sharp knife of the shadows sliced Draco’s face in half. “You heard me.”

“No, I didn’t, I was just screamed at in the hallway and my arm is purple from the bruises you just gave me. It’s hard to hear anything at all right now. What did you say?” Jim said, massaging his forearm. "Nevermind. I need to get something from my dorm." He began to open the door again, stopping when Malfoy spoke.  


“You’ve betrayed me, Pickens, and you’re going to pay.” Malfoy snarled, scowling.

“Surely you didn’t say all of that, did you?” Jim questioned, reaching up to touch his ears. "My ears aren't that bad." The room seemed to grow smaller as the shadows grew darker. "You'd think they'd invest in better lighting here." Jim remarked, taking note of the windows facing towards the lake. "I mean, what if one of those windows cracks? We wouldn't be able to tell. Who even uses candles anymore, really?" He exclaimed, licking his fingers to extinguish the flames closest to him. "Fire hazards. I'm doing this school a favor." He explained. 

“Stop trying to change the subject!” Malfoy yelled, emerging completely from the shadows and crossing to the large green lounge couches. “You have betrayed me. I told my father we would have a guest, and you didn’t show up after dinner as you promised. You have humiliated me in front of him.” Draco admitted, turning away dramatically. “I can’t believe you’ve done this. I thought we were going to take over the wizarding world together. Now I can't even trust you.” He took a seat on one of the couches, facing the pond windows as a giant gray squid swam by the thin glass. The cold currents swept behind the monster, cleaning its path of the evidence of destruction. “You’ll pay for this, Pickens.” The squid circled back, swimming the other way. Its limbs swished with the waves. 

Jim shook his arm out a final time like upside down jazz hands and crossed over to the center of the room. He stood there, silent for a moment, staring at the back of the blond head in front of him. Could he hate a friend? Could he completely forget what he had just a few hours ago? A pure, kind relationship? Could he wipe the world of everything he knew, everything he held to such a high standard? Yes. He could. Easily in fact. Jim didn’t care about who he was with or what they valued. He cared about power. Malfoy offered him nothing. No power. No fun. Nothing. Draco’s father had everything. Draco was a hollow shadow of the man he worshipped. Draco meant nothing to Jim. “I can afford to pay. You have nothing to spend.”

Malfoy clutched his hand shut, digging his nails into his hand around his sleek wand. “You take that back.” He whipped around, a violent fire raging in his eyes, “My father is-”

“You father is not you. You are not your father.” Jim said, cutting Draco off. He crossed his arms over his chest calmly. “Your father is the only worth to you. You have nothing. You are nothing.” Jim walked over to the couch, taking a seat on one of the adjacent arm chairs. Malfoy’s gaze burnt holes into his robes, locking on to Jim’s moving figure. “You could be worth something, but you’re not.” Jim continued. 

The flames in Draco’s eyes spread quickly, rapidly engulfing the slopes of his body. It burned in his veins, in his hands, in his legs. It singed the end of the wand in his hand. “I am more than my father.” Draco croaked, weakly.

“You don’t believe that.” Jim sat back, slouching against the back of the chair. 

“Who are you to say what I believe?” The boy shot to his feet as if the couch burned him. The intensity of his remarks grew with the churning of the flames. “You don’t know me! You don’t have any power either!” Malfoy whipped the point of his wand to Jim’s neck. “I’ll kill you.”

“Oh, but I do.” Jim clarified, relaxed. “I do have power.” He smiled, “What are you going to do? Make a ball of light? Light me up then."

Draco shot his free hand toward Jim’s neck, grasping right below the pointed wand. “I’ll kill you.” He said again, his time quieter, less certain of his abilities “I’ll do it.” He stabbed the blunt point of his want further into Jim’s neck, choking him harder.

Jim slowly reached for the wand, gently taking it from Draco’s grasp. “No, you can’t. That’s alright, Draco.” Jim placed Draco’s wand on the side table next to him, “There’s no need for this. We can pretend this never happened. It’s just between you and me.” Jim said soothingly, looking back up to meet Draco’s eyes.

Draco had softened into a frightened look, his hand still floated in air as if it still had the wand, as if he believed he still had any power at all. His lips quivered as if being tugged on, and the fire in his eyes extinguished with the rain of the tears. He silently stood in front of Jim vulnerable and weak, stripped of everything he held so dearly. 

Jim reached to grasp Malfoy’s wandless hand. “We can take over the wizarding world together, Draco. You and me. You just have to trust that I know what I am doing. You have to trust that I am powerful. Can you trust that?” He said in a stern yet caring tone. “Can you trust me?”

Malfoy quivered. His eyes drifted to his wand, close enough to grab yet far enough from his mind that he could no longer see it as an option. Malfoy was broken beyond repair. Everything he knew was gone. Everything he valued was immediately shattered like porcelain, thrown to the ground and smashed into tiny shards like snow that would soon melt into nothing. Besides the occasional sniffle he was silent and still. His eyes fluttered, pushing tears from the shelves of his eyelids. He looked as if he was turned to stone.

“Draco." Jim said reassuringly, "Join me.”

Draco’s eyes stayed helplessly on the stray wand. He began to breathe heavily, forcing air in and out of his lungs as if reminding himself to live. “I don’t have anything to offer.” He whispered. "You said that."

“You’re worth everything to me.” Jim said, charmingly. “And we can take over the world together, Draco, if you just join me.” Jim knew the value of an ally. An ally was someone to get him out of trouble. Someone to rely on. Someone to throw under the bus if need be. Draco was the perfect scapegoat. He had no other friends. He wasn't popular with the students or professors. Draco was golden to Jim.

Draco thought for a minute before nodding, “I’ll join you, Jim.” He whispered, dropping his hand from Jim's grasp limply.

“Good. You made the right choice. Welcome to the cult.” Jim grinned, pushing himself up from the chair and heading towards his dorm room. “Peeves is also a member, and he’s outside. He wanted a copy of my book.”

“You have a book?” Malfoy said, slouching in the chair Jim just left and staring defeatedly at the ground by his feet.

“Yeah, it’s good too. You can have a free copy for joining the cult.” 

“I’ll take one, too then.” 

"Always take what belongs to you." Jim chimed, "You said that to me at dinner one day, didn't you?" 

"Yeah, yesterday." Draco wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his robes. His blotchy red face starkly contrasted his normal pale skin. 

Jim disappeared and reemerged with two picture books in his hands. “Which one do you want?” He asked, holding them out.

“Is there a difference?” Draco asked, looking up from the floor. 

“Not really. This one is in my left hand, and the other is in my right.” Jim raised the books as he mentioned them. "They're the same story and pictures. They're both signed." 

“It doesn't matter. Nothing matters.” Draco whispered. 

“Oh, then no.” Jim put one of the books in Draco’s lap and began to head towards the door. “You coming? It’s time to assemble the cult.”


	5. Chapter 5

As Jim opened the door to leave the dorms the torture of a second year student greeted him like fresh air. Peeves was chasing the second year up and down the hall, reaching out to tug on the bags the student was carrying. “Stop it!” the second year pleaded, “These are full of important documents for Dumbledore!”  


Jim held his hand up to stop Peeves. “Documents for Dumbledore?” He asked, “What’s your name, kid?” Draco stepped out of the dorms and stood beside Jim.  


The second year paused with tears in her eyes as she gripped the bag closer to her. “I need to go.” She said, attempting to walk forward. Her legs didn’t budge.  


“Peeves, let her be.” Jim commanded the reluctant ghost. Peeves stood back, taking his leg away from in front of the girl’s legs. “There’s no need to be afraid.” Jim said reassuringly. “What is your name?” He asked again.  


After a brief moment of staring at Jim with tearful eyes as big as saucers, she quietly responded to his question, “Laura Playmobil.”  


“Well, Laura,” Jim said, putting emphasis on her name, “I was just about to head towards Dumbledore’s office. Would you like me to take them?”  


She shook her head fraily, causing her short black hair to wave around her face like a hula hoop, “I don’t know who you are.”  


“That’s not an issue. I can tell you anything you need to know about me.” Jim offered, holding his hand out for the bags. “Those look awfully heavy. Why don’t we go together? I'll tell you about myself, and I can hold some of the bags for you.” He smiled, beckoning for her to hand a bag over to him.  


She seemed hesitant, holding the bags close to her heart before slowly stretching her arm out to hand Jim one of the bags. “I don’t know you, but you’re a student in Hogwarts, so I can trust you.” She reasoned, her yellow scarf falling to the ground as she dropped one of the bags in Jim’s hands.  


“Hufflepuff, huh?” Draco said, a glint of disgust both in his eye and saturating the overtones of his voice.  


Jim reached down to gather her fallen scarf, “I like Hufflepuffs. They’re the most,” Jim turned to look at Draco, “loyal of all of the houses.”  


“I don’t care what house anyone comes from.” Peeves said, “I just like to torment people.” He began to float ahead, leading the pack towards Dumbledore’s office.  


“You should apologize to Laura, Peeves.” Jim commanded, “You had your fun. She’s a friend now. Right, Laura?”  


“An apology isn’t necessary.” Laura said, disheveled.  


“Yeah, an apology isn’t necessary, Jim.” Peeves mimicked back, messing with his hat.  


Jim shifted the weight of the documents to his other shoulder. “I think it would be the best thing to do. We’re nice to each other here.” Jim explained. “Apologize, Peeves.”  


“What makes you the boss of me?” Peeves asked, turning to look at Jim. He continued to drift down the hallway backwards. “I don’t have to do what you say.”  


“Peeves, apologize.” Jim scolded.  


Peeves ducked his head like a child who had just been grounded, and pouted as he apologized, “Sorry for chasing you up and down the hallways, Laura. It’s just that you were an easy target, and I was bored. 

Jim was taking so long to come out of the dorms and I didn’t,” he rambled.  


“It’s okay, really.” Laura assured him. “Honestly it’s fine. You were having fun.” Laura smiled at Peeves, her teeth stuck over her bottom lip like a rabbit’s when she grinned.  


“Ugh, Hufflepuffs.” Draco repeated before biting down on his tongue and looking to see if Jim heard what he said.  


Jim looked at Malfoy disapprovingly, but he didn’t say anything to acknowledge Draco’s remarks. “Who are these documents from?” He asked Laura.  


“Professor Snape.” She responded briefly, quickly following the answer with explanation to remedy the confused expressions for her fellow group members, “He was going to take it himself, he said, but he had to oversee detention right after class, and these documents are urgent. He trusted me to take them.” As she spoke she swept the floor with her eyes like a broom, focusing on anything but the people around her.  


Draco spoke first, his expression sour. “Snape trusted a student with his work? Yeah, right.” he scoffed, “As if he would ever trust another professor, let alone a student.” He crossed his arms, stepping in front of the girl to block her path. “You’re lying.” Jim and Peeves stopped in place, watching the two.  


“I’m not lying!” She exclaimed, a tinge of panic in her voice. “He asked me to take these.” Laura’s face began to turn red. Her eyes narrowed as if she was squinting at the morning sun, yet she kept them locked on the boy in front of her. “I’m not lying I swear.”  


“Do you swear it? How far would you go to swear it?” Draco asked, lifting an eyebrow. “Would you swear it on Hagrid?” Jim turned an angry red to match Laura’s fresh complexion. “McGonagall? Dumbledore?” Draco stepped closer to the girl, leaning into her face. “Your grave?” His warm breath slapped Laura’s face as he stared her directly in the eyes. Laura began to wail again, this time louder. “You’re a liar.”  


Jim pushed his way in between the pair, forcing Draco back to a safe distance from Laura, “Did Snape actually ask you to take these? You can tell us the truth.” He reached to lay a gentle, comforting hand on Laura’s shoulder.  


Laura shrugged Jim’s hand off of her shoulder. “What does it matter to you?” She asked helplessly. Her voice was a shadow of what it once was.  


“If you insist Snape asked you, we won’t press further.” Jim explained, “We just need to know if we can trust you back.”  


“He didn't,” Laura said after a moment of contemplation. “I stole them from him. I don’t like his class. I’m failing it. Everyone is failing.The other students convinced me to take the assignments to Dumbledore to see if we can have another teacher.” Laura frowned at Jim, the hurt in her eyes drying quickly. “So I’m going to Dumbledore. Come if you want to.” she continued to walk, quickening her pace to escape the group. Her robes billowed behind her like a cape.  


Jim stared at Draco incredulously, frustratingly gesturing towards Laura. “She’s our key to the top of the second years, stop pressing the issue.” Jim looked to Peeves, to Draco, and finally to Laura. “Come on.” He followed after Laura, jogging to catch up with her. “We’re with you. We’re failing too.”  


Draco began to protest but Peeves quickly stopped him with a menacing glare. “We’re with you.” He repeated, defeatedly.  


Laura stood up straight and nodded affirmatively. “Good to hear. I was hoping you would come along. We’re almost there anyway. Then we’re moments away from getting Snape fired.”  


“Fired?” squeaked Draco.  


“Yes, Draco, fired.” said Jim, triumphantly.  


Laura marched on, leading the pack up and down hallways and finally entered the headmaster’s tower. Her shoulders slumped as she reached the staircase, and her eyes began to shift away from everyone near her. She began to walk slower. “Almost there.” She chimed, quietly.  


“Seems like we’ve been walking forever.” Jim joked, elbowing Laura’s side lightly.  


“We haven’t.” Laura shot back dryly, not daring to entertain his joke.  


Peeves spoke up, “I thought it was funny.”  


Draco’s expression looked as if he smelled something putrid “You’re not even walking, Peeves, you’re floating.” He moved to the back of the back, falling behind everyone else.  


“Maybe that’s why it was so funny.” Peeves shrugged, “I just like the guy. Jim’s charming. He’s funny. He’s nice.” He continued, drifting halfway into the wall . “Whoops, got distracted.” He admitted, laughing as he pulled himself out of the bricks, “I think Jim needs a nickname.”  


“A nickname?” Jim asked, curiously, “like what?”  


“Like,” Peeves thought, drawing himself into silence and squinting at the ground, “like, Jimmy. Jimmy jam. Jimmy jammin’ out. Jim jams a lot, Jimmy Johns, Jimpin’ Jacks.” He rambled.  


“Like dear leader.” Draco spat, sarcastically.  


“Dear leader!” Peeves repeated enthusiastically. “Exactly. Malfoy’s got the spirit.” Peeves ruffled Malfoy’s hair.  


“I was kidding of course, and don’t touch me.” He said, reaching up to swat the ghost’s hand away from his messy hair.  


“I like it.” Jim confirmed, “Dear leader.”  


“You guys really seem to like Jim.” Laura said, making her presence known to the group by stopping ahead of them on the stairs.  


“Call him dear leader, Laura. He brought us all together.” Peeves said, “And he gave me a free book. I like free stuff. He deserves the respect of the title.”  


Draco shifted his weight from foot to foot uncomfortably. He began to lag behind the group farther, starting first with pausing to tie his shoes without announcing the break, then waiting before taking the next step. He worked quietly, inconspicuously, to remove himself from the group as to not be seen in public with a hufflepuff.  


“Well, I don’t know if I’m a fan of calling him that, but if it’s alright with him, I guess it’s fine with me.” She said, continuing on her way.  


Jim’s expression turned the same degree of sour as Malfoy’s before quickly transforming into a charming smile. He couldn’t stand the idea of anyone not seeing him for what he truly was. The thought of Laura not believing him to be the leader of the group repulsed him. She would be the first one to go, he thought. She’s too dangerous to keep around. Peeves and Draco are mindless, Laura knows better than to succumb so easily. “Laura, are you sure we’re in the right place? Is this really the way to Dumbledore’s office?”  


She didn’t answer. Instead, Peeves filled the silence, “This isn’t the way to Dumbledore’s office, no.” He said, blissfully ignorant. The ignorant are always only temporarily blissful.  


“What?” Jim questioned.  


“What?” Laura turned, her eyes wide. “You’re messing with us, right, Peeves?”  


“No, seriously, you can’t even get to Dumbledore’s office anyway. You need a password.” He continued. “I’ve never been allowed up there, but I know where it is. It’s in the Headmaster’s Tower. We’re heading up to the Gryffindor dormitories. I thought you all knew that.”  


Jim was conflicted. On one hand, this proved his assessment of how mindless Peeves was, on the other hand this delayed his run in with Dumbledore. His hand curled tensely into a fist before he dropped the anger with a deep breath and turned to head back down the multiple flights of stairs without a word.  


“Please don’t be mad dear leader.” Laura whispered. Jim didn’t respond. I don’t know my way around as well as I thought I did. I’m smarter than this, I swear, I’ll just have to prove it to you.” She pleaded, running to follow Jim closely behind.  


Draco was far gone. His feet hit the landing of the stairs where the pack entered the stairwell far before anyone else’s. He waited patiently, leaning on the wall as if he were hiding in the shadows in the dorms.  


“Ah, Mr. Draco Malfoy. Don’t you have a class to get to?” said a man entering the stairwell.  


“Professor Dumbledore!” Malfoy choked, “We were coming to see you.”  


“We?” Dumbledore looked around to see if he missed any students in the proximity. “Who are you referring to, Mr. Malfoy?”  


“Jim Pickens, Laura Playmobil, Peeves and I.” He responded quickly, standing up straight.  


“I don’t see them around here.” The old man said, looking around again. “Are you sure?”  


“Quite sure, sir. I left them on the stairs. They should be reaching the top right about now.”  


Jim, Laura, and Peeves stood on the last round of stairs before the entrance to the stairwell, watching Draco with wide eyes. Draco stared back at them aghast.  


Dumbledore turned to look in the direction of Draco’s shock. “Ah, hello to you all. Where are you supposed to be?”


End file.
